


A Visit

by MildredJosephine



Category: Thor (Movies)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2014-01-01
Packaged: 2018-01-06 00:37:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1100393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MildredJosephine/pseuds/MildredJosephine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two years after Loki enslaved Darcy Lewis to aid with his attack on earth, Darcy receives a reminder of the past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was unnerving how sure she was that it was him at the door. Darcy almost had to wonder if maybe her mind was still a little bit hijacked. Perhaps some lingering remnant of the control he had once held over her was still there. Some echo from two years ago when he had come so close to bringing the world into chaos, with her as an unwilling accomplice. Three therapists and five different prescriptions still could not erase the horror that still would wake her in a sweat in the middle of the night.

Work. Eat. Sleep.

Work. Eat. Sleep.

Ritual had been her only comfort. SHIELD had cleared her as a threat when Loki's war was over and she had finally been released from his supernatural control over her. She had been allowed to leave her position with SHIELD for a modest salary in a small company in Minnesota: far, far away from the nightmare she so desperately wanted to escape. She had no doubt that Fury kept his tabs on her, no matter how low-profile she tried to remain, trying to forget.

And yet, as she stood in her kitchen chopping up carrots for her small, lonely meal, the knock at the door brought up floodgates of fear she had not felt since the attack on New York. She could feel the cold sweat pooling on her back, and she knew it was him. Perhaps it was because she knew no one in the city, and she had no friends to visit her. That still hardly pointed to Loki, but her mind could not be convinced it would be someone else, even though Thor had visited her briefly to tell her he was dead. Whatever his reason for coming to see her, any attempts to hide from it would be futile.

Darcy turned off the stove, placing the kitchen knife in the sink. The bottle of Xanax on her kitchen windowsill caught her eye, and she wondered if she should take one, as she could already feel the room closing in on her. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes, counted to ten, and opened them, just in time for another polite knock on the door. As she padded over to the door, she wondered awkwardly if she should change. As intimidating as Loki was, she doubted she would feel any braver in plaid flannel pajama pants and a gray tanktop with fuzzy socks to keep her feet warm in the Minnesota winter. She didn't bother to check the peephole when she opened the door. Some part of her had wished that she had been wrong. That it was the merely the paranoia that had defined her existence for two years that made her think that it would be Loki on the other side of the door when she opened it.

Sadly, this time, it hand been instinct guiding her.

"Good evening, Miss Lewis," Loki greeted politely. Darcy stared at him. The last time she had seen him in a Midgardian suit, he had been ripping the eye out of a man while she had been trying to crack codes for his vault. She blinked the memory away, wishing for the fog of one of her medications.

"Hello," she said quietly, pushing her glasses on her nose before crossing her arms over her chest. She wasn't sure if she was supposed to say more. He hadn't forced his way in. It was strange that he was just standing out in her hallway. As she stared at him, she dared to think he almost looked uncomfortable; but that would be ridiculous. Loki was never uncomfortable. "What's up?" she finally asked casually. A smile formed on his lips and she wanted to run.

"May I come in?" he asked. Darcy couldn't stop the eyebrow from raising.

"Do I have a choice?" she asked her tone still managing to remain civil. Loki looked at the floor a moment.

"I will leave, if you wish," he replied, before looking back up at her. He seemed so deceptively unassuming. She could not stop from rubbing her arm absently, looking him up and down is if trying to read him, no matter how fruitless  _that_  endeavor was for anyone, let alone her. Hugging herself tightly, she slowly back away, staying close to her door, and allowed him entrance. Regret, she was quite certain, would be on the horizon soon. All the same, he walked in, his tall frame dominating her small living room. She shut the door behind them, locking it out of habit, even though the person which she always sought to lock out was now in her home and she was doing nothing about it. She almost shrugged to herself. Typical.

Whatever game he was playing aside, he was still as nosey as ever. Just as when she had been under his thrall. Always asking her little questions that she could not avoid or lie about. She watched as he ran his green eyes over her small living room, not caring to know what arrogant things he was probably thinking about her odd decorations or modest furniture. It was hers: she had built a life for herself from the broken pieces in which he had so carelessly left her. She wasn't go to be bothered if he turned his offended little nose up at it.

"I have caught you at dinner," he said. "I apologize. I did not mean to interrupt-" Darcy frowned immediately.

"What are you doing?" she questioned suddenly. Loki paused, watching her closely. "Why are you here?"

"I-" he paused again, and Darcy's frown deepened in confusion at his hesitance. "I wished to see you." Her eyes remained fixed on him, uncertainty etched in her features as she stood motionless.

"Thor told us you died on Svar-whatever-heim," she said. A sly smile formed across his thin lips and Darcy grew even more disconcerted at the ease of the Asgardian.

"Almost," was his reply.

"And you wanted to see me when you somehow survived?" she said, as if to explain to herself.

"Frigga spoke to me quite a bit concerning my crimes during my imprisonment," he said, assuming a casual pace around her living room, examining her life in the trinkets around her apartment. "She spoke often of the people I had hurt. Of course, she usually meant Thor and perhaps even Odin, but for some reason, you always came to mind when she said that." A photo of her and Jane on her bookshelf caught his eye. It made her uncomfortable when he picked it up to stare at it. The three of them looked so happy in that picture. She wished she could snatch the picture from his long fingers and put it back where it was supposed to be. "You have changed much, since I last saw you." She clenched her jaw to avoid saying something ugly in response.

"I guess a lot has happened," she said cautiously, still wishing she knew why he was there, and why he wouldn't put her damned picture down. It was hers. Perhaps he could still read her mind, though she hoped he couldn't, as he placed the picture back down. He turned back to stare at her as a pregnant silence stretched between them. "I was sorry to hear about her," Darcy finally said sincerely. "Jane said she was very nice." Loki watched her, as if trying to decide if she was being sincere. Darcy hoped to everything that her small condolence did not make him angry. She barely knew why she had even given it.

"Thank you," he said evenly, "she was." Darcy looked around unsure of what to say next.

"Okay, you've seen me," she said, sticking her hands in her pockets uncomfortably. "Are you going to leave?"

"If you wish," he replied, though he made no move to leave. Darcy took a deep breath, her anxiety building by the moment. "Did you wish me to leave?"

"You should go," she whispered.

"That wasn't what I asked," he replied, his long footsteps bringing him closer and closer to her until she she had to bend her neck back to look up at him. Darcy trembled as he brought a hand up to her face, flinching when the back of his fingers gently touched her cheek. He paused until she opened her eyes to look him in the eyes, tears welling at the corners of her eyes. "We were friends, once, weren't we Darcy?" She blinked slowly, cutting a tear off from her eyelashes.

"It wasn't real," she replied quietly, opening her eyes.

"It could be," Loki said, wiping the tear from her cheek. Darcy froze, feeling as if some sort of cord snapped in her, clarity suddenly illuminating the surreal sort of encounter for what it was.

"Oh my god," she said under her breath, disbelieving. Loki's eyebrows came together in curiosity as she stepped away. The sort of ethereal haze that she surrounded him in her mind's eye faded, and there was only him: tall, handsome, and powerful, but not some sort of vague entity that could not be comprehended. "You're lonely," she said lowly, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

"What?" he questioned, confusion clearly in his eyes. It was satisfying.

"You're lonely," she repeated, "and I am literally the closest thing you have to a friend. Everyone else you have either killed or alienated beyond repair." Her eyes grew wide, taking a step back as she continued to look him up and down in disbelief. She could see the tension growing as he gritted his teeth. "That is  _so_  incredibly, pathetically sad. Do you honestly just wake up in the morning and try to figure out how to make your life just a little bit sadder than it was the day before?" She could see fire set to the green pools of his eyes, but he did not manage to reply. "All this time I've had you in my head like some sort of spirit that was beyond need or something." Her eyebrows came together as she watched him. "You're just as messed up as the rest of us." Loki's face was on fire with rage, and she knew she should be scared; but the surge of fearlessness in front of the man of her nightmares was intoxicating.

"I did not come here to be mocked by an adolescent Midgardian," he sneered, his hands tightening into frustrated fists and releasing again.

"Then what  _did_  you come here for, Loki?" she questioned. "Did you think things could just be as they were when you had my mind enslaved to be your little lackey and you forced me to betray everyone I cared about?"

"I don't  _know_ ," Loki hissed, resuming a short pace in her living room. "You were," he paused, "strange, but I found it pleasant. I found myself thinking of you more than I wished." He ceased his pace, his eyes scanning her apartment for another object that would be intimidated. "I aided Thor and Jane against Malekith. I am  _trying_ ," he paused again looking back toward Darcy, whose hands had migrated to her hips. "I am _trying_  to be good, I suppose. I thought it would interesting to see you again."

"Interesting?" Darcy almost squeaked. "I have about a dozen medications to take and a standing appointment with a  _shrink_  because of you. Do you know what  _happens_  to mortals when they have another person tear into their  _brain_?" Her voice was raised, and Loki could to little more than stare at her. "Bad.  _Bad_. Things. Loki," she bit out, crossing her arms again. "So yeah, I hope that's  _interesting_  enough for you. But whatever you were looking for, you are not finding it here. Now  _leave_  and move onto the next person whose life you are going to screw up royally. You've done your damage here, but  _thanks_  for stopping by." Her breath was ragged, and she could feel fury and anger coursing through her veins as she stared at the demi-god in her living room.

Surprisingly, he did not look angry anymore. Darcy partly expect him to reach forward and magic her dead right then and there, and an even smaller part of her almost wanted it. But he was not angry. His dark brows fell at the outer corners. He looked almost hurt. It was unnerving. Loki didn't get hurt. Loki was maybe not as unearthly as she thought, but he did get hurt. He didn't have feelings. He didn't look like she had just murdered his puppy. She sure as hell wasn't feeling bad about anything she had said. He deserved worse.

"I see," he said calmly, his face shifting back into a cool veneer, as Darcy tried desperately to calm her breathing. "Well, I, appeared to have worn out my welcome, I believe," was his quiet conclusion. She wasn't sure if she wanted to roll her eyes or stop him. If he was trying to be good, maybe brutal honestly hadn't been the way to go. "Good evening, Miss Lewis. I apologize for my intrusion." He tilted his head to her politely, and disappeared before her eyes.

She fell on her couch and wept.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, I've decided this is like an offshoot of the relationship Loki and Darcy had at the beginning of In the Service of Liars and Killers. This is basically if Darcy had just run away and never met Loki on the tower and he switched sides, etc.
> 
> So... basically... I just made a fanfic of my own fanfic... which is weird, lol.
> 
> I think there will be one more chapter... of this I think.

 

* * *

It was cold.

Darcy liked most things about her secret little life in secret little Minnesota. The cold nights however, buried under four blankets, she did not like.

It was another sleepless night. The kind where she felt like every memory and thought and emotion would come pouring out of her by her eyes or something. She wanted to squirm and scream but she couldn't moved under the weight of the layers keeping her warm. She wanted to go outside and scream into the night under she passed out from exhaustion. Her breathing was fast and she could feel sweat beginning to pool along her spine.

It was going to be an awful night, though it was hardly unusual. She hadn't had a decent nights sleep in two years.

The air shifted. She could feel it. Where she had been able to hear the static of silence, a deathly stillness seemed to coat her room.

"You choose interesting times to visit," she said quietly. In spite of what she knew to be wise, she was unafraid.

"I had hoped you would be asleep," the silky voice replied, a solemn note in his words.

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" she asked.

"I have not come to hurt you, Darcy," Loki replied.

"It wouldn't matter if you had," Darcy said. She felt a dip in bed behind her as long fingers threaded through her hair, the tips ending on her temples. She blinked slowly, unconcerned with whatever he had planned.

"I have worked with Selvig on his condition from the Scepter," he said quietly as she could feel a warm tingling on her temples. "He has helped me develop a spell to counteract its effects on the mortal anatomy. He seems to be recovering quite well now. I would hope it would do the same for you." Darcy remained still as a pleasant warmth seeped into her skull, and slowly throughout the rest of her body. His hands slowly drifted behind her head, then gently down her spine.

"What does it do?" she asked quietly, resenting how nice his hands felt on her back. He had touched her on few occasions while in his service, but it had always seemed a forbidden thing. All the same, she refused to feel disappointed when he removed them and pressure on the other side of her bed lifted.

"It should balance the chemicals in your brain," Loki explained, mechanically, "for a short version." Darcy turn around, sitting up as he straightened, clearing his throat.

"I'm surprised Erik let you within ten feet of his brain," she said. Loki smirked, though humor did not reach his eyes.

"Much has changed," he replied. "Though he was quite hesitant for this venture, to be sure. The promise of helping you certainly persuaded him." Darcy said nothing in response, but wrapped her arms around her legs, watching him closely. "I apologize for the intrusion. I would have preferred to not have troubled you with knowing I was involved, but-"

"If you didn't want me to know you were here, then I wouldn't know," she interrupted. He froze, even his silver tongue failing to form a lie, only an uncomfortable silence filling the room.

"What do you want me to say, Darcy?" he asked, his hands presenting some sort of imaginary peace offering.

"Why do you keep coming here?" she asked.

"I wished to see what I have done to you undone," he replied. "It will be the last cause I have to see you, if that bring you any peace."

" _Why_?" she asked again, a hint of desperation coating her words as she stood. "You wouldn't do anything that doesn't benefit you in some way. What is it that I could have that you want?" His eyes narrowed, stepping closer.

"You know me so well now, do you?"

"I would  _love_  to be wrong," she almost hissed. "I would throw a damn party if I was I wrong. Am I?"

"You know nothing of my motivations," he said sharply. "If I choose to do a good turn by you, why can you not simply be grateful, or -if you must press the issue that it was  _I_  who caused you trouble- at the very least be indifferent."

"There  _is_  no indifferent with you, Loki. You don't allow it."

"And so if you cannot love me, you must hate me then?" he questioned. The  _L_  word threw her, and she had trouble forming a retort, but rather stood gaping as she tried to start three sentences at once and failed miserably. "I will check on you in a week. You will not be troubled by me thereafter." Darcy was not sure what spirit possessed her, but she launched forward from her bed, grabbing his hand and he turned for the door.

"Loki, please," she managed to push out in a whisper as his tall form stilled. They both froze, unsure of how to react to contact. Slowly, Darcy let go of his hand, staring at her own like it was some malfunctioning piece of machinery as she brought it back. "I don't want it to be this way," she finally said. "If it doesn't have to be."

"I have humbled myself on your account quite enough," he sneered. "I will see that you suffer no ill-effect from our-" he paused. A dry laugh escaped her throat.

"What? Association?" she asked as she turned back to her bed, getting back under the warmth of her blankets. "Yes. 'humble' is the word I think of when I think of you. Do whatever you want, then."

"Damn it, Darcy," he hissed. "What do you want from me?"

"I never asked  _anything_  from you," she said, defiance in every syllable.

"You think this is easy for me?"

"I don't  _care_  what is easy for you. You've hardly extended that courtesy to anyone else around you." She could see him grit his teeth in frustration as he turned his back to her, but still loomed like a shadow in her doorway, the moonlight from the window casting just enough silver light to see him.

"I thought perhaps it would be different with you," he said, a quiet stillness falling over them. "You were so-" he paused, and she found herself listening, though he did not seem as if he would finish.

"Stupid?" she prodded. Loki turned to face her again, a sad smile playing on his lips.

"You were kind," he said. "The Scepter did not require that, but you were all the same. I thought perhaps I could-" he paused again, the silence stretching out between them. "I thought I would see what you were like without it."

"I guess a twenty-something with clinical depression who can barely hold down a job isn't what you expected," she commented dryly. He at least had the decency to look uncomfortable. "You were nice too, I guess. You gave me ice cream." She shrugged. "Doesn't really make up for trying to enslave my planet. But it was something."

"I'm afraid I cannot buy my way into your good graces with frozen dessert at the moment. I see you are well stocked."

"You went through my  _freezer_?"

"I had to see if at least some things remained the same," he said, the first genuine smile ghosting over his lips. Darcy, surprising even to her, found herself returning the expression, though sadness remained etched in her eyes.

"What are you doing now, then?" she asked. "You and Thor are just  _here_  now? And you're just Mr. White Hat?"

"I doubt that will ever be a moniker ascribed to me," he replied. "I am assisting Miss Foster and Thor in research and doing my best to earn my redemption, as my brother so likes to call it."

"And you hate it," Darcy ventured. Loki uncharacteristically shrugged, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"It is preferable to prison," he sighed. "It makes less enemies than trying to conquer planets, I suppose."

"Reasons are reasons, I guess," she said, wrapping her arms around her legs. "Do you really think whatever mojo you just did will help me?" She barely heard him mutter the word  _mojo_  under his breath with an amused chuckled.

"I am confident, yes," he said firmly. "With your leave, I can work to adjust the spell to you. It will take time, but I believe all physical evidence of the Scepter will be removed." Darcy nodded, for the first time actually contemplating the idea of recovery.

"I think I am going to go back to sleep," she said quietly.

"Of course," he said, going to stand. She reached out, grabbing his arm gently, and he paused to look back at her.

"Do you want to stay?" she asked. Loki froze, his green eyes boring into hers, the silence stretching for an agonizing length between them.

"You play a dangerous game," he commented quietly, "inviting a monster into your bed, Darcy."

"I'm not inviting a monster," she said. "I'm inviting the man helping my friend, who is working to fix what he's done." She paused, a sad smile forming on her lips. "The one who is as alone as I am." She paused again, shrugging nonchalantly, tucking herself back into bed. "If you bring the monster, then I can't help that. But it's not who I'm asking to stay." Loki looked at her thoughtfully for a moment, taking in a breath as if he had five tons of rock on his shoulders. He leaned down, unlacing his boots and tossing them to the side, along with his overcoat. She smirked as he lifted up the blanket tucking himself into her bed.

"What, you aren't going to magic yourself into Loki-pajamas?" she asked. "Are they green? I bet they're silk."

"I normally sleep wearing nothing, if that would make you more comfortable." Darcy eyed him, snuggling back under her blankets as she observed him shift around until he found a situation.

"Thank you," she said quietly. "For trying to fix my head."

"You are welcome," he answered quietly.

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Darcy."

It took but a few minutes of silence, and Loki found pale arms wrapped around him and a brunette head of hair resting on his chest. He felt a brief panic of invasion, but as the closeness of her body began seeping warmth into him, he thought he might dissolve into sheer nerves then and there. The last time he had embraced another person had been his mother during that plunge into madness after Thor's banishment. The only person to touch him since had been far from pleasant, not that he ever wanted to remember that time. Seeing the small mortal quietly snoozing against him, her legs entwining with his, for some reason forcing herself to instill some sort of  _trust_  in him after all he had done to her, a rush of lightness started in his stomach and washed up over him.

How often had he longed to touch her this way, during his war on Earth? How many times had he, for a moment, wondered it would have been like to just let it all go, and bathe in the glow of the sunshine she had offered, even under the thrall of his madness? After a year of only the torture at the hands of  _him_ , he was almost disgusted at the weakness of his own flesh for the need to touch someone else. But Loki Laufeyson did not bathe in sunshine. He consumed and consumed until there was nothing left. Even Darcy Lewis and her silly, juvenile charm had fallen under his boot.

But as he looked down at her, the harshness that seemed to dwell in her face as of late seem melted away as she drifted off to sleep. She had no idea with what fires she toyed. But then again, perhaps she did, and simply lost the ability to care. It did not matter. He was not the selfless hero who would deny what he wanted for the sake of her having some sort of idyllic existence. He wanted back the silly girl who danced carelessly around his bunker full of thralls to her ridiculous music as she created chaos at his instruction for her former employer. He would do whatever it took to get that woman back. He wanted to wrap himself up in her and never be found again. Perhaps it was selfish, but he had never claimed to be otherwise. He would get her back, and then her would take whatever she would offer to his most charming self, whether it be her sunshine or her body. Preferably, she would offer both.

 


End file.
